


Can't Control Myself

by JueJueBahn



Series: The Smutty Songfic Collection [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Come play, I don't even know what else, I might be a bit drunk right now, M/M, Shower Sex, Underage - Freeform, also I love long sentences, both kinda under the influence actually, but that doesn't come up until the next part of the story, but then again mentions pack and derek is the alpha, cuz setting might be after S02, cuz this is pure PWP, dub con, have some good old-fashioned growly caveman derek, i'll stop now, look I srsly wasn't thinking too much about it, or wolfman derek whatever, slightly AU-ish I guess, so S02 I guess but kinda not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 06:40:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1678484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JueJueBahn/pseuds/JueJueBahn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is showering innocently but then omg a wild Derek appears and might or might not be intoxicated with weird supernatural stuff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't Control Myself

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooooo. This is PWP. Srsly.  
> Thought I'd mention that English is not my first language, aaaand this is not beta'd, aaaaand as mentioned in the tags I feel I have this unstoppable urge to write looong sentences. If none of this gives you the 'urgh no gross'ies, carry on (though it might be dangerous to go alone).  
> So yeah excuse my mistakes (if u find some feel free to tell me, but remember I will feel free to tell u to pipe the fuck down if I disagree ;) )  
> what else what else oh yeah!  
> This is a songfic so. sorry? xD I dunno it's just I wrote this kinda really quickly just to get it out of my head and it's just PWP anyway (which I love btw so I don't mean to use that dismissively but u know. titles shmitles.)  
> rightyeah here's the song:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wXrTbjOZn04
> 
> allrightthisiswaytoolongalreadyanywaybye

Can't Control Myself

It's a terrible thing to have your desires slapped in your face out of the blue, Derek thinks. One moment he was unsuspectingly climbing through Stiles' window, maybe a bit grumpy because they have still not figured out what that thing is that is killing people in their sleep; the next moment he's hit with an immense surge of lust, standing in front of the open door of the bathroom, where he has sought out the boy. He has never spent even a second thinking about their relationship or what Stiles meant to him; has grown impartially accustomed to the constant scent and cloud of arousal around the teenager, has not even judged the way his room smelled right now- as if he had jerked off only minutes ago.

But now, with no one else in the house but them, and the sound of the shower mingling with some kind of dance music Stiles has playing in the bathroom, and that smell in his nose, and the unmistakeable truth that Stiles must be in there naked and wet- he wonders if it's something that has been building up between them all this time, if they have been dancing around each other unaware of their hunger. Because it hits him like a rolling wave and he's hard before he even steps inside, a haze of want making his head groggy and his vision swimming at the corners as if his whole being is focusing on the outline of Stiles' body through the shower curtain, the hard beat pounding through Derek's limbs, the way Stiles is innocently singing along to lyrics that seem to have been extracted directly from Derek's thoughts.

It's as if he doesn't even have a choice on the matter, his heartbeat already doubling over, his wolf singing along as well, turning his sight a blood red as he kicks off his boots and shakes out of his jacket. He's just reaching for the hem of his T-shirt when Stiles is "na na na na na"-ing and pulling the curtain aside, looking for some lotion probably; it's not as if Derek's brain works well enough to figure it out or even wonder about it. Whatever it was, it obviously gets him to notice the werewolf in the room and not even the undignified squeak he gives can make Derek's blood cool down, because Stiles is right in front of him now, without the fake safety of privacy between them, and Derek can't control the way his eyes roam, just as he can't help his deep answering growl as Stiles hisses

"Derek, what the f-…"

It certainly serves to shut the boy up, and he must see something in Derek's eyes that makes him realise what's going on- because his gaze flickers down to Derek's groin and he whispers a cut off "No way…" before his mind evidently stops its search for words. He smells fantastic- young and wet and interested and Derek hears himself growl again as he pulls his T-shirt over his head. Stiles' eyes are even wider than before when he reestablishes eye contact, and his mouth is open and inviting, skin flushed from the shower, cheeks bright red from a mixture of embarrassment and arousal.

He swallows when Derek's fingers go to his fly and then when the alpha pulls down both his jeans and his underwear at the same time he actually whimpers, not hidden to Derek even under the noise of running water and the still so strong beat from the song that's on endless replay on Stiles' phone. Derek doesn't have to look to know that Stiles is as hard as he is now, and he's still staring into the boy's eyes when he steps into the shower, pulling the curtain close behind him and crowding Stiles against the tile wall. It's a close fit and it's perfect, the air heavy and moist, Stiles' rapid breathing a melody even harsher than Derek's pulse as he reaches out, brushes his thumb against Stiles' cheek before he grabs him hard by his hair, tilting his head up. The boy mewls and it makes Derek's knees weak with want. It's a useless battle against his primer urges and they're only so lucky that he's not changing, but he cannot keep his vision from bleeding- bright red as the heat that surges through his fingertips on Stiles and right down to his cock.

When he finally presses his lips against Stiles' the boy gasps and it's too much right from the first touch on; he slips his tongue inside Stiles' mouth and everything is just warm and slick and flawless, the shivers that run through Stiles as if he's this close to coming already making Derek dizzy. The kiss was dirty from the beginning, but it gets heady and urgent so quickly he only has time to notice that Stiles has problems with keeping up, before he has to touch him more- letting his free hand grab the teen's throat and squeeze ever so slightly, enjoying the tremble that wrecks Stiles' body at that way too much. His palm travels lower, the other one still cupping the back of Stiles' head, giving him no escape from the kiss while he pushes the boy harder up against the wall, mapping his chest, his flat stomach, his narrow hips before he gives his cock one firm tug that has Stiles moaning filthily into his mouth, too little and too much. Stiles is already leaking precome, Derek can smell it, harsh against the pureness of wet skin and soap, can feel it sticking to his fingers as he grabs the boy's wrists that have been confusedly rubbing against the tile, and pushes them up over his head. Stiles' body is a tempting arch now, and Derek leans back only for a second to take him in, flushed all over, dick hard and needily curving up against his belly, eyes forced close as if he's scared to wake up should he open them.

He makes another pitiful noise when Derek resumes kissing him and then goes tense all over and groans like he's dying as Derek at last presses against him, chest to chest, one thigh between the teenager's, both unable to stop rutting against each other in blind need. Derek knows somewhere in the back of his mind that he shouldn't do this, that everything will change after, but he can't help it- it had hit him like a freight train and his wolf is howling mine and take and fuck and now and it's the only thing he can focus on.

Stiles gives another whimper at a particularly hard thrust and Derek backs up enough to turn him around before he shoves him against the wall again. "Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…" the boy mumbles and Derek hums low in his throat in approval and runs his teeth along the sensitive tendon on his neck, staggeringly delighted at Stiles' trembling as much as the submissive action of baring more skin as he tilts his head. He's still got one of Stiles' wrists up above his head, his other hand sneaking up the boy's chest and stopping to play with his nipple as he starts unconsciously rubbing his cock against the small of Stiles' back.

"Shit…" Stiles breathes and lets his forehead fall against the tile, muscles locking up every time Derek bites in between the kisses and licks he spreads on Stiles' neck and shoulder. He's moving with Derek now, small tilts and rocks of his hip that drive Derek insane and he mumbles unintelligible praise into the boy's skin, closes his eyes against the bright white wave of arousal that takes over when Stiles moans his name, small and needy and so unsure it awakens an urge inside Derek's chest to give the boy everything he wants, anything he asks for.

He shushes Stiles with his lips pressed against the shell of his ear and Stiles whimpers again when Derek pries himself off his back and bends to get a hold of the lotion Stiles was looking for earlier. He mouths between the boy's shoulder blades and opens the bottle with his free hand, keeping Stiles' right arm pinned to the wall with the other still, spills some of the shower gel right onto his cock and groans at the contact. The bottle is thrown carelessly back to it's place and Derek feels a sense of ridiculously huge relief as he plasters himself against Stiles once more, rubbing his stubbly cheek against the bite marks and bruises he left on the boy's neck and enjoying the way it makes Stiles shiver and curse way too much.

He reaches down and spreads the lotion on his cock, groaning as he strokes a few times, knowing he won’t last long, not with the way Stiles mirrors his moan and gasps against the tiles. Derek adjusts himself and pushes forwards, slipping between Stiles spread thighs until the tip of his dick comes in contact with Stiles' balls and Stiles goes completely rigid against him.

He shushes the boy once more and lets go of his wrist, running his palm up and entwining their fingers and Stiles actually sobs. Derek has always known that this kid will be the death of him one way or the other, but he has not been prepared for the amount of protectiveness and adoration that he feels for Stiles now. He tilts Stiles' hips just so and then the angle is heavenly, sweet friction after he nudges the boy's thigh and Stiles presses his legs together with a startled sigh. He curses again when Derek starts to move, harsh earnest thrusts that have to rub Stiles the right way somehow because he squirms and moans into the crook of his elbow where he's resting his head. Derek knows he's almost there, can feel the tension start to slip down his shoulders and along his spine and when he runs his fingertips up Stiles' thigh he notices his nails have turned into claws, but he's beyond any control over it and Stiles trembles and smells even headier so Derek increases the pressure, only just not breaking skin and the sound it pulls from Stiles is so loud and filthy the boy's face turns an almost impossibly darker shade of red that he tries to hide against his arm. Derek bites him just where neck and shoulder meet for it and Stiles knees wobble dangerously.

"Touch yourself" he growls, his voice a hoarse, low whisper that he's never heard from himself. Stiles whimpers, but stays still except for his hips meeting Derek's on every move.

"Go on, I want to smell it" he says against Stiles' bright red ear and Stiles whimpers again.

"Fuck, are you for real? You can't just say something l-… oh fuck…" His voice is husky as well, but he trails off as Derek takes him by the wrist and forces his hand down between his legs. Stiles' breath catches at first contact his palm makes with his cock, and a new bead of precome forms at the tip. Derek groans, fitting his fingers over Stiles' and setting the same pace as his hips and Stiles' eyes fall closed, breath coming in harsh gasps, head lolling back onto Derek's shoulder. His expression is almost pained and Derek can only pull himself away from watching Stiles' face to nuzzle behind his ear, where he smells strongest of just Stiles and the tips of his wet hair tickle sweetly against Derek's nose and cheek. Stiles is working himself on his own now and Derek scratches his claws up the boy's stomach, getting high on the desperate whining sound Stiles makes, and then fits his hand around Stiles' throat again. And fuck, if Stiles' tensing and panting is anything to go by, the boy likes it. A lot apparently because his hands picks up pace and he comes with a quiet sob, a few tears rolling down his wet face, shuddering through his orgasm and still having moans punched out of him each time Derek rocks his hips forward. Derek is not far behind him, not with the smell of Stiles' cum on the tile hitting him like lightning, not with the way Stiles' fingers cling to his against the wall, not with the way his body is adorably pliant now against him.

He pushes harshly so Stiles is pressed cheek and chest and knees into the tiles again and snaps his hips forward a few last times, Stiles shouting hoarsely with the force of Derek's thrusts until he stills and holds Stiles close with his hand still around his throat, groaning as he shoots between the boy's thighs. The quiet and relief that washes over him is almost eerie in it's comfort and for a while there is only the sound of the shower and the music and their breathing returning to normal, the taste of Stiles' skin under his lips, and the wolf sighing miiiiiiiiine.

Then Stiles' stirs slightly and moans uncomfortably when Derek backs away only enough to not lean his whole weight on Stiles. Derek hums contently and runs his nose through the fine hair at the back of Stile's head. He feels calm in a way he hasn't felt for years. Stiles shifts against him and murmurs "Geeeeez-us fu-… Oh gross" as he eyes the stickiness trickling down his legs. Derek sighs and runs his fingers, now thankfully human, up the inside of Stiles' thigh, catching some of his come and rubbing it into the skin there. Stiles makes a gagging noise.

"Der-, oh my God, stop…" It might not be a lie, but the boy's heartbeat definitely does something that calls it a half-truth at best and it's enough for Derek to continue, because he's surely not stopping out of free will. He's marking territory, he's doing something very import- He's gone insane, he thinks. But he can't really stop, and he tells himself it's the impending full moon, and him spending more time on the fucking monster they're looking for and training his betas than controlling himself. Stiles is squirming impatiently and making abashed little whines and Derek has the impression he'd be running around, gesticulating and shouting, if he wasn't still caged between Derek and the shower wall. Derek runs his fingers higher up Stiles' leg.

"Oh God, you're such a perv… you're a pervy come-perv. And you just deflowered me in the shower, man, not cool…"

Derek hums again and bites him just under his ear, trailing his knuckles lightly over Stiles' balls and perineum, making him flinch with oversensitivity and moan in embarrassment. He trails his lips over the shell of Stiles' ear, triumphant when Stiles leans into the caress subconsciously.

"Really, dude, rethink your choices before you just maul people in their ho-ooooooooooooly crap, what the fuck are you doing??"

Stiles' voice is high and shrill and he lifts up onto his toes in an attempt to get away from Derek's fingers pushing cum past the rim of his asshole. Derek slings his arm around Stiles' waist and holds him close, thankful that the boy doesn't flail his arms, but just plants his palms against the tile and trembles with his eyes wide.

"Ffffu- are you kidding me? That is so unsafe…" he mewls and oozes shame, voice actually sounding as though he's close to crying. That definitely needs to change because in Derek's opinion the boy never has any reason to be ashamed in front of him anymore.

"I can't get STDs, Stiles" he mumbles and strokes the tip of his nose across the delicate skin on Stiles' neck, bypasses the bruises he's left. His thumb is rubbing soothing circles across Stiles' abdomen even as he pushes his fingers deeper inside the boy and curls them. Stiles bucks and gasps but his heartbeat seems to calm down ever so slightly.

"It's still gross… You're gross. Gross, pervy perv…" Stiles mumbles and sniffs, but his hips are pressing back onto Derek's fingers now and he doesn't smell or sound of panic anymore.

"You love it."

"I hate you" Stiles murmurs petulantly. This time, Derek can hear the lie dead-on in his heartbeat. Derek's wolf is satisfied now and he pulls his fingers out with a noise that has Stiles mewling once more and after a last kiss and nuzzle to Stiles' temple he steps out of the shower and starts drying off. When he looks over, Stiles is wiping the back of his hand across his face and washing his come off the tile with the shower head in his hand.

"Well, at least that got rid of the sexual tension…" he's mumbling and Derek grins.

"I wouldn't say got rid, but it was definitely a start."

Stiles stumbles and slumps down onto the shower bottom, staring up at him with wide eyes and a blush, looking oh so very much like a deer in the headlights.


End file.
